


I Will Sing No Requiem

by sentient_bees



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, May Parker (Spider-Man) Needs a Hug, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-10-17 18:31:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17565770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentient_bees/pseuds/sentient_bees
Summary: Peter's parents have been alive, all this time. They want to figure out how to heal, but Tony isn't so sure.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off of the song "Requiem" from the musical Dear Evan Hansen:
> 
> https://youtu.be/AN9x0v2-deU
> 
> (Yes I'm into some normie musicals don't judge me IT'S GOOD)

It’s a cold, stormy night when a four-year-old Peter Parker is gently shaken awake by his mother.

 

“Mama?” He questions, rubbing at his eyes with his tiny fists.

 

“Hey baby,” Mary cooes, “We have to go to Aunt May and Uncle Ben’s house, okay? You’re gonna have a sleepover!” 

 

The boy’s eyes light up despite his groggy state. He loved going over to his aunt and uncle’s house. He doesn’t even pick up the way Mary’s eyebrows crease and she looks at her son for what might be the last time. Her baby. 

 

“Honey? We have to go.” Her husband’s hushed voice and a gentle hand on her shoulder pulls her from her thoughts. 

 

“Right.” She picked up the suitcase they almost always kept packed for Peter, putting in a few stray things before clicking it shut. Richard picked the boy up, and the family of three were on their way. 

 

The drive to Ben and May’s house was short. It always was. Mary held Peter close instead of putting him in his carseat, and he was already drifting back to sleep, snuggling into her embrace. 

 

Once they made it there, they ran into the apartment building as fast as they could, rain pouring. Once they reached the floor they were looking for, Ben was already there and waiting. 

 

“Hey bud!” Ben greeted after they had walked into the apartment, setting a now-awake Peter on the ground to take his Uncle’s hand. “Let’s go sleep on the couch, huh? You can pick out a movie if you want!” The little boy nodded excitedly as they headed over to the living room. 

 

May stayed with her brother and sister in-law, giving them both a hug and a kiss and saying their goodbyes. Richard and Mary acknowledged Ben with hugs and then walked over to where Peter was sitting, and crouched down to his level. “Hey, Pete, your mom and I have to go, but we’ll see you soon, okay?” Peter nodded dutifully, just a little bit afraid by the way his father’s voice quivered. “We love you so, so much.” Richard hugged him and placed a kiss on his forehead, Mary moving in to do the same, holding onto him longer than she should have, because he began to squirm. She chuckled, “We love you baby. See you soon.”

 

And with that, they were gone. 

 

They got the call later in the day, as things were winding down and Ben was cooking dinner. May picked up the homephone, but then screamed and dropped it like hot coal, staggering back. Ben rushed over to hold her in his arms, whispering words of comfort as he rocked her back and forth. 

 

All that night, they cried. And so did Peter when his parents never came back. 

 

\--------

 

“Aw, come on!” Tony cried as Peter beat him in their fourth Mario Kart race.

 

“Face it, Tony, you’re condemned to a life of shame.” Peter said smugly. “Another round?” Tony pouted, but took to the challenge.

 

“You’re on.” Tony said, despite himself.

 

Tonight was a family night at the compound, or, more correctly put, family week. May and Peter were spending the week with Rhodey, Pepper, Tony, Happy and several of the other Avengers if they decided to show. May was using up vacation days for it, and though Tony offered to go somewhere more remote for those “vacation days you’re wasting on us,” she just scoffed and said she’s rather be somewhere quiet.

 

Happy, May and Pepper were currently at the kitchen island, laughing loudly and drinking bottles of expensive wine. Peter assumed they had a few glasses, because he’s almost never seen Happy laugh as hard as he was right then. Tony and Rhodey were both playing Mario Kart with him, though he had already won a few times, Tony consistently ending up in twelfth and Rhodey in sixth.

 

As they started into their second race, a voice rang from overhead, filling all corners of the room. “Boss, there’s someone at the gate.” 

 

“Who are they? I’m sure they can wait two minutes.”

 

“Facial recognition has identified them as Mary and Richard Parker.”

 

Suddenly, the world came to a halt. May looked up, startled, and Peter dropped the remote in hands where it fell with a crash onto the hardwood floor. Tony paused the game and immediately stood up. “What?”

 

“Boss, I believe the Parkers are requesting entry.” 

 

“H-how is that possible?” May’s voice shook. Everyone was visibly shaken, like they had just seen a ghost, Peter and May most of all. 

 

“I do not know, Mrs. Parker,” FRIDAY sounded almost just as confused. 

 

Tony rubbed a hand over his face, “Are they human?”

 

“My scanners do not suggest otherwise, so yes, it is safe to assume so.” They must have all stood there for an hour, all staring at each other, before Rhodey spoke up, “Well are we just gonna stand here or see what’s going on?” 

 

\---------

 

As they headed down to the compound’s entrance on foot (Peter had insisted after they saw that it was, in fact, Mary and Richard at the gates,) Tony was wary and stayed close to him. 

 

As they honed in on their destination, he could see the faces of the two adults. Richard was slim and tall, with dark dirty-blonde hair like Peter’s, and was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Mary had short red hair, and was also wearing casual clothing. As they got closer, he could take in the small details that only pictures had shown them to have. They both looked just the same as they had twelve, even fifteen years ago, but they had wrinkles here and there and showed obvious signs of age. 

 

The two’s eyes got wider and wider as they watched who was walking towards them. Tony was sure it wasn’t because of him, Rhodey, Happy or Pepper-- no, they were most surprised to see May Parker, and a boy the age their son might have been today. They stopped at the gate, a physical barrier that Tony could tell made Peter fidgety. 

 

“Mom?” He asked warily, looking between the two apparent strangers beyond the gate “Dad?” 

 

Mary just stared, her hands over her mouth as she held back tears, and Richard looked shocked, holding onto her arm as if to reassure him it wasn’t a dream. 

 

“. . .Peter?” He nodded vigorously, much like he did when he was little. At his son’s confirmation, tears began to well up in Richard’s eyes. Rhodey nudged Tony, who had been staring almost dumbly at the scene before him, and he moved to open the gate.

 

As soon as it was open, they rushed in and embraced the boy in a bone-crushing hug. May was behind him, sniffling as tears streamed down her face. Mary opened her arms and she joined them. 

 

Suddenly, Tony felt incredibly out of place, like he was intruding. He could tell that Rhodey was somewhat uncomfortable as well, but Happy and Pepper just watched on, touched. As they parted, Tony could see that Peter was full-on crying then. He almost moved to comfort him, but stopped himself when he realized. His father was right there, a hand placed protectively on his son’s shoulder. 

 

As they walked back to the compound, Tony trailing behind, he could not have felt more lonely than he did in that moment. 

 

\---------

 

“Would you like some lasagna?” Pepper offered to their guests when they arrived at the residential area of the compound. They looked nervous, out of place among the fancy decor that decorated the multi-million dollar facility. 

 

“No, thank you,” Mary smiled politely, downcasting her gaze. Tony could see where Peter got certain mannerisms and habits from just from observing his parents. After a few minutes of silence, Peter asks, hesitantly, “Where were you guys all these years?”

 

Richard stiffens and sighs, as if he were expecting this question. “Well? Where to start? Uhm . . .maybe when the plane crashed, all those years ago. In 2005.”

 

Peter nods. “Yeah. We. . .we thought you died. They couldn’t find your remains in the wreckage.”

 

“Well. . .let’s start with the basics,” said Mary. “We weren’t just scientists for Oscorp. We’re agents of SHIELD.” The room got that more silent, if it was even possible, and Tony heard May gasp. Her sister in-law looks up at her, “I’m sorry, May. We couldn’t expose ourselves for fear of being compromised.”

 

She continued on. “When we boarded the plane, we knew what might happen. There had been reports from the higher-ups that HYDRA was hijacking planes and taking them down, taking the surviving passengers to work in camps, almost like the holocaust.” She shuddered.

 

“I remember that,” Rhodey commented, “We were sent out after two places disappeared off the radar. Thought it was just your run-of-the-mill terrorists. Didn’t think about it being HYDRA, especially since we thought they were all gone at the time.” 

 

Mary nodded “SHIELD kept it’s suspicions up, and they were right to think that they were still out there. We even suspected there were members of HYDRA within our ranks, but no one was able to prove it.” She shifted her gaze towards Peter and May “We had a very small task force that kept it close to their chest. Couldn’t very well let it get out there that we suspected HYDRA to be within our ranks when they could have been listening. Only five people knew about this, including Nick Fury and us.” 

 

“Fury. He keeps a lot of secrets, doesn’t he?” Said Pepper.

 

“Yes, I suppose he does.” Mary says thoughtfully, “But I could understand why. He has to keep the secret from getting in the wrong hands.” As she spoke, Tony watched her, arms crossed. He didn’t know whether to believe her story or not just yet. 

 

“Well, while we were on it, the plane was hijacked and we went to take down the agents who were responsible. Though it turns out one of them was a suicide bomber, and he blew up half of the plane. We went down, but not before getting the information we needed from the surviving agent about a local base from where the plane was.”

 

She looked to Richard, who continued the story, “We walked for a few days until we found it, using a tracker the agent had on his person. I went undercover under his identity and Mary stayed a few miles out of range. We infiltrated the base and took it down, no problem.” 

 

Tony raised his eyebrows, “You took down a HYDRA base on your own?”

 

“Internal shutdown. You get to their computers and shut down their communications and they’re blind. I then sent the base to self-destruct, something all HYRDA bases had according to the information we acquired, and it turns out it was correct. I fled before it blew.”

 

“We then walked for a day or so until we came across a road and caught a ride with a passerby, who took us to the nearest town. He spoke russian, though, so we couldn’t really understand him. From there we contacted one of our operatives at SHIELD, who told us to keep our heads down until HYDRA was off of our scent. And, well, that took a while, as you can see,” He indicated his wrinkled features. “We were in New York on a recon mission when we were chased out of the city by HYDRA agents, supposedly living underground as crime lords. We kept driving until we came here, and decided this was good as any place to regroup, if we were allowed.”

 

“So. . .the night I got that call, you were alive?” May asked, voice cracking.

 

“Yes,” replied Richard, “I’m sorry, May. And Peter, of course. I’m sorry we caused you both so much pain. But we did what we had to do.”

 

Peter shook his head, “Twelve years, though? That’s a long time.” 

 

“I know,” Mary stated, “But we needed to disable HYDRA bases all throughout Europe and Asia. We never stayed put for more than two seconds. I’m sorry baby,” she gave him a sorrowful look, placing her hand on knee. “We couldn’t come home because we knew they might hurt you if they followed us. We had to do it to keep you safe.”

 

Peter sniffed, and gave his parents a tearful look. “I know. I’m just glad you’re back now.” He reached over and hugged his mother. May could only stand there and cry, letting tears fall silently down her face.

 

Tony, however, had a hardened expression, his heart being crushed as the boy he loved as a son was stolen away from him in an instant.


	2. Chapter 2

After their tearful reunion, Peter begins to excitedly tell them all that has happened since they were gone. About his friends, Midtown high, Delmar’s, and about his working with Stark Industries and the Avengers. He left out the part about him being Spider-Man, however. Tony figured he was still a little closed-off from Richard and Mary. They were his parents, but he barely knew them since they “died” when he was only four. 

 

Tony found some sort of sick satisfaction in that, much to his own internal disgust. He felt extremely possessive over Peter, he quickly realized. Tony knew that Peter knew him, had seen him at his worst and knew how much he cared for him. Peter’s parents, on the other hand, were distant and foreign to the somewhat dysfunctional family they had established in recent years. He could only assume May felt something similar, but only mild contempt since she’s known them as Peter’s parents. As her family. 

 

The one before theirs. 

 

“This is my boyfriend, Happy Hogan.” May stood next to Happy with a hand on his shoulder. Peter made a face. He still felt weird about them dating. Happy smiled with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

 

Richard gave her a puzzled look, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought my brother was your boyfriend. Did you guys fall out? I sure hope not.” He let out a nervous chuckle. 

 

May’s face fell. They didn’t know about Ben’s passing, three years previous. 

 

“Ben. . .passed away three years ago.” May said slowly, casting her gaze towards the ground, “He was shot when someone broke into our apartment.”

 

Richard and Mary looked startled, but for a second Tony could see something else flash in Richard’s eyes. A knowing gleam-- as soon as it was there, it was gone. But Tony didn’t miss it. 

 

“That’s. . .that’s awful.” Mary said, tears once again gathering in her eyes.

 

“I can’t believe it.” Richard said, just above a whisper. He and Mary clung to each other as they processed the information. As they mourned, three years too late.

 

Tony wasn’t buying it. 

 

Peter dropped his gaze as well, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “He took care of us, though. We really miss him.” 

 

Richard sighed. “He was probably more of a father to you than I ever was. I wish I could thank him.” He covered his mouth with his hand, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Tony stood in the back, only observing the scene.

 

Peter made an effort to catch his father’s gaze. “That’s not true! You were both took care of me when you could. It’s not your fault you had to go off to save the world,” Peter chuckled. “And besides, he’s not the only one. I loved Ben, but Tony is kinda, well. . .” He looked up to Tony, who felt pride swell in his chest, not outwardly expressing the emotion, “He takes care of us now. But not without forgetting Ben, and it’s the same with you guys. Ben took care of me, but he always told me stories about you.” He laughed. “Like the baseball incident.” 

 

“He told you about that?” Richard looked scandalized, “Betrayal!” 

 

“What’s the baseball incident?” Rhodey piped up, looking between the Parkers.

 

Richard chuckled and leaned back on the couch. “Just some dumb story that happened when Ben and I were kids. Fourteen years old, not much younger than you.” He gave a pointed look to Peter. “We were at the baseball park in the city. There was a guy eating chili, and combined with the fact that I’m not too good at baseball, well. . .” He trailed off, mocking a thoughtful expression. Peter burst out laughing. “No way!” 

 

“Yep.” He replied, grinning, “I tried to throw the ball to your uncle, but it found its way into the guy’s food instead.” The room filled with laughter, but was interrupted with a notification from FRIDAY.

 

“Boss, Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Barton and Captain Rogers told me to inform you they are ten minutes out.” Richard and Mary looked startled, and Peter laughed at their confused expressions. “That’s FRIDAY, she’s the AI that runs the compound.” 

 

“Amazing.” Richard says, looking dazed. Tony almost forgot that they were both scientists who probably loved learning about any new thing they could get their hands on. That’s how Peter was, anyway. 

 

“Thanks, Fri” Tony says, already heading towards the door.

 

“Where are you off to, Tony?” Pepper gave him a look, one that only he could interpret as her ‘you’re being rude’ face. 

 

“I need to go talk to our team members when they get back. I’ll only be a few minutes.” He gave them all a forced smile. From an outsider’s view, it looked like his normal TV smile. Rhodey, however, knew better, and Tony internally groaned when he followed him out of the room. Usually Peter came with him to greet their team members as they came back from week-long missions, but he was currently occupied.

 

As they left, he could hear them return to their conversation, then laughter. Rhodey was quick to catch up. Tony looked forward, determinedly heading towards the landing pad on the roof. 

 

“What’s up with you, man?” Rhodey took no time dancing around his friend’s feelings. “Why are you being so quiet? Usually you bring all the attention to you.” 

 

“You know very well why.” Tony said, still taking long strides.

 

“No, I don’t.” Rhodey put a hand on his shoulder, turning him to face him. “You’re supposed to be happy for Peter. But instead you’re acting bitter. What is it?”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“Oh my god. . .are you jealous?” Rhodey furrowed his brow.

 

“What? No!” Tony pulled away from him, “I just don’t trust them is all.”

 

Rhodey crossed his arms, giving him a knowing look. “You’re definitely jealous.” Tony said nothing, and continued to walk. Rhodey followed him. 

 

“How close are they, Fri?” Tony asked.

 

“About six minutes out now.” 

 

“Great. Tell them to gather any damaged gear they have. I’m on my way.”

 

“Got it boss.”

 

They entered an elevator, and FRIDAY took them to the roof. A slight breeze hit their faces as they exited. It was the middle of the summer, hot and sticky with bugs milling around in the lights that lit the outside of the compound. It was cooler than it was during the day, however.

 

They stood there in silence for a couple of minutes before seeing the distant quinjet approach. They couldn’t really hear it, Tony had made sure the latest engines were as quiet as possible. They appeared within the confines of the compound, the plane having previously been invisible. 

 

Wind whipped around them as the quinjet landed, finally coming to rest before it opened up. As the ramp descended, Tony could see Steve and Nat with their gear bags in hand. Clint was somewhere near the front of the plane, he assumed.

 

As they exited, Tony stepped forward. “Rogers. Romanoff.”

 

“Stark, Rhodes.” Steve grinned, “It’s been a while.”

 

“Almost five days.” Said Rhodey, smiling, “And you couldn't tell us what was going on?”

 

“We couldn’t risk communications being intercepted. HYDRA and all that, you know how it is.” Natasha piped up, handing Tony her bag, “Just a few broken transponders I found on the quinjet.” Steve handed Tony his bag as well, patting him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Tony.” 

 

“No problem,” he set the bags down, crossing his arms, “Now, I should probably warn you guys of our guests.” 

 

“Guests?” Clint furrowed his brow as he walked to join the group, the quinjet closing behind him and being swallowed by the ground as it descended to the hangar, courtesy of FRIDAY.

 

Tony sighed, “Peter’s parents. They’re alive, apparently.”

 

Clint and Steve looked shocked, and rightfully so. They’d been told about the Parker’s tragic past, behind closed doors in hushed voices. They had even visited the grave sites with Peter and May once on the anniversary of their deaths, as well as Ben’s. 

 

If Natasha was shocked too, it didn’t show. “What was their story?” 

 

“Oh, no, we’re not doing this,” interjected Rhodey, “Tony, you’re just jealous and paranoid. You need to let it go.” 

 

Tony scoffed, “You can never be too careful, Rhodey.” He turned to face Nat. “They came to the gates about two hours ago with a sob story.” He told them everything, about how they went undercover because they were agents of SHIELD and couldn’t come home in fear of tracing their enemies back to Ben, May and Peter. “Load of bullshit, if you ask me.”

 

Natasha looked contemplative. “Well, I agree with Rhodes. You do sound pretty jealous.” Rhodey gave Tony a look, “See? Thank you!” He gestured to Nat dramatically.

 

“However,” she continued, “I also agree with you, Tony. That story doesn’t sound entirely believable. It’s missing some details. I’ll look into the database and see what I can find on them.” And with that, she was gone, not waiting for anyone to reply.

 

Tony gave Rhodey a smug look. “Shut up.” Rhodey waved his hand at Tony. 

 

Steve and Clint had since shook off their shock for concern. “How is Peter taking it?” Asked Steve.

 

“Surprisingly well, actually,” Tony replied thoughtfully, “You’d think he’d resent them for disappearing for so long, but he just seems happy to have them back. I guess that’s just Peter for you.” 

 

“He’s a good kid. I can’t imagine him being angry.” Clint said.

 

“I’ve seen him angry, and trust me, it’s not all that intimidating.” Chuckled Tony, “We should probably head inside. No use in standing here all night.”

 

\-------

 

When they return to the common room, the group has since transferred from the couches to the kitchen island, chatting over dessert and leftovers from dinner. Peter and May were sitting across from Mary and Richard, Richard telling a story while Peter laughs. It gave Tony a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he ignored it in favor of introducing Steve and Clint. 

 

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about your work.” Richard shakes Clint’s hand and moves to Steve, who shakes his hand and smiles at him before sitting down. That made Tony feel a little bit better. Clint and Steve were both making their best efforts to act polite, and chat with the two Parkers casually. But he could tell that they’re both on high alert. Peter didn’t seem to notice their slightly out-of-character behavior as he devours his fifth piece of watermelon. 

 

Pepper and Happy, too, fail to notice that something was off, much to his relief. Rhodey was quieter before, his contributions to the conversation minimal, as he, too, observed Mary and Richard for any flaws in their facade. 

 

But they were perfect. Tony hated it as he smiled and joked, but they were perfect. Mary was kind, gentle, quiet, and beautiful-- but was also fierce and determined. She was much like May, and even like what Tony suspected was Peter’s crush, his friend MJ. Apparently the Parker boys had a type. Huh. Richard told funny stories and well-timed jokes. He was handsome and cunning, and he seemed to very much have a grasp on the sciences of the world. Mary did as well-- they both were eager to learn and easy to talk to. Like Peter. He was so much like them.

 

Tony ignored it as he laughed at one of Richard’s jokes, cold and forced, and it stung knowing that he wasn’t Peter’s father. Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of short-- please lmk what y'all think! <3


	3. Chapter 3

After a few days, the Parkers began to settle in. Pepper welcomed them to stay in the residential suite of the compound. Tony couldn’t resist, seeing how happy it made Peter to have his parents back. As difficult as it was to see new parental figures move into Peter’s life, he had to come to terms with it, and traded his jealousy for fake smiles.

That didn’t mean that he didn’t take precautions, however. 

He was still a little bit paranoid after they had turned up out of the blue. Natasha had even checked the SHIELD data files, and it was all there. Their mission reports-- everything. They checked out with their references, too. Though they had yet to get ahold of Nick Fury, who was somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Only encrypted messages could make it through to the base he resided in, and those were few and far in-between. Only meant for emergencies and world-ending catastrophes. Though Tony felt it appropriate to try and send a message through, Pepper only chastised him, telling him that they were clean and he should stop worrying. 

And, for a while, Tony wanted to believe that. So when he found himself limiting Mary and Richard’s access to practically everything in the compound that wasn’t a kitchen or bedroom, he too found himself ashamed of his behavior. He quickly dismissed for feeling in favor of resentment. It was basic protocol, after all.

“Tony! What’s with all of this restricted space?” May asked one day, in a huff. She had taken a couple of more weeks off of work, claiming they had a family emergency that would take a while to resolve. 

“It’s just protocol, May. Can’t very well have a few random citizens running around the Avenger’s compound. Government secrets.” He leaned back on his seat in his workshop, examining the piece of technology in his hands.

“But they’re not random citizens, they’re family.”

Tony had to bite back his retort. ‘Not to me, they’re not,’ is what he wanted to say, but instead went for something a little bit more peace-prompting. “Like I said, basic protocol. Very few people have access to everything in the compound, May. You and Peter are an exception to the rules.”

She rolled her eyes but says nothing, turning on her heel and walking out of the lab.

“Anything happen in the last twenty-four hours, FRIDAY?”

“Nothing noteworthy, boss,” the AI replied. That’s another thing. He told FRIDAY to alert him of any suspicious behavior by the newcomers and put the compound on silent lockdown. If they so much as sneezed in the wrong direction, they would have it on camera and recorded in a special security data file. Kept from Peter’s view, of course. He wished he could say he felt bad for spying on the two, but couldn’t help it. He did something similar back when the rouge Avengers first came home, watching for suspicious behavior until he felt they were trustworthy, especially the Winter Soldier. When you’re betrayed as much as Tony is, looking over your shoulder becomes second nature. Especially when it came to Peter.

Tony had been watching the kid like a hawk ever since Mary and Richard came to the gates, nearly a week ago. He spent less time with him, and more time with his long-lost parents. And though he was slightly hurt and still didn’t trust the two, he understood. His relationship with his father was never the best, but if his parents suddenly came back from the dead he would spend as much time with them as he could as well.

The only true conversation the two had had all week was Tony warning Peter not to bring his parents anywhere near the labs as they worked on a project.

“I know you want to show them your work,” Tony stated, “but I can’t have them in the labs or garage. I know they’re your parents, but I don’t know them, and even you don’t know them all that well. It’s just until I feel more comfortable with it,” he added when he saw Peter was going to protest, “But it’s a process. This is how it is for everyone. Baby steps towards having full access. Got it?”

Peter hesitated, “But what if I want to show them my robots? My roombas?” Tony sighed. Peter had been working on multiple robotic projects, trying to give something resembling sentience to his creations, much like DUM-E.

“Fine. But only in the common area, got it? I’m sure you’ll have no trouble bringing them back and forth.”

Peter huffed but complied. Tony scooted closer to him, a prodding device in hand. He moved to work on the repulsor in front of him, but hit Peter’s left forearm instead. He jumped back.

“What the hell?” He questioned, cradling his arm, which was now bleeding.

“Shit,” Tony looked startled, “I’m sorry. Lemme see it, we can get you patched up.”

As Tony sorted through the first aid kit and found the materials he needed, Peter mumbled, “You know, you owe me ice cream for that.”

Tony chuckled but didn’t protest. “Of course, bud. My fault. Wasn’t being careful.” He sprayed the wound with disinfectant, Peter wincing at the sting, but otherwise not showing any real sign of pain. That saddened Tony, a bit. Knowing that Peter could take pain like this because he’s experienced far worse.

After patching up the wound, he ruffled Peter’s hair. “Sorry again, underoos. Want a juice box for your troubles?” 

Peter scoffed. “Of course not. I’m too old.”

“Peter.” Tony raised an eyebrow.

“. . .okay, yeah. Yes please.” 

\-------

“Mind if I join you?” Richard walks into the training room where Steve was beating up a punching bag. 

Steve stops to breathe, hands on his hips. “Sure. You want a go?” He points at the punching bag. 

“I was actually wondering if you were willing to spar.” Richard looked almost sheepish, “I’ve been meaning to polish my skills. Mary’s better at the whole fighting thing.”

Steve raised his eyebrows but complied anyway, “Sure. Best out of three?” He positioned himself, ready for a fight. Richard did the same. 

“You’re on.” 

And so they fought. Steve held back with his super strength as to not hurt his sparring partner, but he had to admit Richard was a fighter. He got a few good licks in before Steve knocked him to the ground. He seemed more confident than he was before when he was fighting. “You’re not bad. Your fighting reminds me of Peter.” 

“Peter fights?” Richard questioned. Peter hadn’t told them about Spider-Man-- luckily, Steve knew this and had a backup story. He answered without hesitation. “Tony likes to know that he’s trained in basic hand-to-hand combat. Basic defense, you know? He’s taken a liking to it, he thinks it’s fun.” 

Richard chuckled, “He must take after his mother. She loves a good fight.” 

“You’re pretty good, too,” Steve replied. Richard waved him off, “Eh, it’s only part of the job. I’m more into the science division.”

“Really?” Steve questioned, “What division?”

“Genetic engineering, mainly,” the man took a swig of his water bottle, wiping at the sweat on his face, “Though I dropped it before my research was complete. I used to work for Oscorp.”

“Never heard of them,” Steve picked up his bag, preparing to leave the room, and Richard did the same.

“They’re pretty big in that field. Mary did some work with it as well. I could imagine Stark would know a thing or two about them.”

“Hm.” Steve looked thoughtful as they continued their conversation down the hall.

\--------

Mary gasped as she turned a corner only to bump into one Natasha Romanov. 

“Um, excuse me, sorry,” The woman pushed through her, eyes on the ground, obviously spooked by the assassin's sudden appearance.

Natasha only watched her go, lips pursed every so slightly, and continued to walk into the common room. There she found May and Pepper chatting over wine, a cookbook laid out in front of them as they discussed its contents. She waved to them in acknowledgement before heading over to the living room, where Peter was sitting on the floor and trying to teach one of his robots how to spell. 

“See, use this,” He pointed at an. . .extension? Limb? On the robot and indicated the letter board in front of him, “To spell out a word. Try something simple, like. . .ball.” The robot nodded eagerly, as if it really was alive, and for a moment Natasha could have sworn it looked sheepish after spelling out ‘B-A-L-T” instead of it’s assigned word. Peter just laughed, patting the limb. 

“It’s fine, Buddy. It takes some time. We’ll rework your program tomorrow, okay?” The robot nodded again excitedly. 

“What’s his name?” Natasha questioned as she sat down on the couch. 

“Buddy,” He replied as he stood up, “Sometimes Beep.” The robot beeped in reply to that, as if to make a point. Natasha smiled. 

“Where’s Clint?” Peter said. 

“He’s off with some family business,” She lied, sensing that Mary had just walked into the room. Peter raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it as he ran over to his mother to present the robot. 

Natasha only watched as she praised him, greeting the creation in question as if it were a person.

“No way!” He exclaimed, looking down at the paper Mary had presented to them.

“Yep. Your grandmother’s recipe. Thought you might want to try some.” Mary said proudly. 

“I’ve only ever heard legends of grandma’s cookies,” said Peter, “But no one in our household was bold enough to bake them.” That earned him a playful smack from May. 

“I did too try to make them! Just, well. . .” 

“Not well?”

“Exactly! But I tried. The effort is what counts.” 

Mary chuckled, “Well we can make them now. If that’s alright with you, Mrs. Stark?” She looked expectantly at Pepper, who just waved her off. 

“Just call me Pepper. And that’s just fine. This is your house as much as it is mine.” Mary smiled at that, a gleam of hesitation in her eyes. When she had first had a proper conversation with Pepper, Natasha was there. The woman was obviously nervous around the CEO, and expressed her respect and admiration several times. Each time Pepper just laughed and told her ‘thank you.’ 

Though they had since proven their sincerity, she was still on high alert and always made a point to keep any eye on the newcomers. 

Natasha sat at her spot on the couch for the better part of an hour as they chatted away in the kitchen. Her eyes were down on the report she was reading, but her ears were open. They always were.

Eventually, Peter came bouncing into the living room, Buddy trailing behind him. He offered her a tray of cookies, and she smiled before taking one off the tray, still warm. FRIDAY called everyone who was in the living area of the compound to the kitchen, and soon they were all gathered on the couches and munching on cookies.

Natasha was pleasantly surprised when she saw Bruce walk into the room, having previously been at the tower for the past few days. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and said his hellos and introduced himself to the Parkers before plopping down next to her and joining a heated conversation over the periodic table and its integrity. He had been warned of their guests ahead of time, so his reaction to seeing them was much more calm. 

Nat watched Tony’s face carefully, noticing how strained his expression was as he debated with Richard and Peter. He was obviously uncomfortable, she noted. Bruce picked up on the behavior right away, because he suddenly excused himself and asked Tony to help him with something in the lab. Peter didn’t even notice, as Richard had begun to tease him and were going back and forth. 

\------

“So what is it?” Bruce cocks his head at Tony, who just sighed. 

“Tony?” He questioned. The man in question ran a hand down his face, looking weary. 

“It’s nothing Bruce,” he said as he fiddled with a piece of machinery he had picked up off the table.

“Let’s not do this. Can we just skip to the part where you tell me what’s going on?” 

“Well, guessing by your reaction you’re not too surprised by our guests. Did Rhodey warn you?” 

“Pepper. She also told me you’re not taking it well.” 

“Yeah, well, she’s not wrong.” Tony plopped down in his work chair, lazily spinning. 

“Tony.”

“Okay, okay,” he stopped the chair to face Bruce. “I don’t. . .I don’t trust them, is all. Doesn’t it seem a little weird that they would just show up out of the blue after, what? Twelve years? Maybe they finally got wind that their son was living with Tony Stark and wanted to take advantage.”

“Tony. . .you’re reading too much into this.” Bruce sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk. 

“Am I, Bruce? Because it looks like to me like that’s exactly what this is.” He suddenly got the urge to move, to do something, and stood up to pace, “There’s just something not right about them showing up. I wanted to contact Nick, you know, to confirm that he’s got a connection to them, but he’s god knows where right now and I just. . .I don’t know what to do.” He sighed, dejected. Banner just cocked his head, concerned. “Have you tried contacting him?”

“No, Pepper told me off when I suggested it. Said it was rude. What’s wrong with a little background check? Natasha did her research and said that everything was right as rain, but I think we really need to hear it from Nick himself.” 

The other man looked thoughtful, then. “That’s fair enough, actually. I think I know a guy who can get a message through to him if you really think it’s necessary. Though it’ll take a couple of days for it to go through, maybe weeks.”

Tony sighed in relief. “Thanks, Bruce.”

“No problem, Tones.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took sooo long!! It's really hard writing dead spots and pacing them well enough. But hey, they're a necessary evil to balance out for when it's time to get into the action! Please let me know what you guys think in the comments!
> 
>  
> 
> SIDE NOTE ALSO: I'm looking for someone savvy at digital art to help construct a run-on story (one or two visuals per chapter, nothing super demanding)-- I can also draw, but I'm not too great at humans so that's why I'm putting it out there. :)


	4. Chapter 4

The message would take a week to go through. 

Once Tony had finally convinced Pepper that they needed to clarify with Nick Fury that the Parkers, in fact, were legitimate SHIELD agents, with the aid of Bruce and Natasha’s word, of course. She was reluctant but gave in eventually.

It wouldn’t be a problem if they were clean, after all. 

Tony reassured Pepper and May that it was only a precaution, and they eventually set up a meeting with Bruce’s higher-up contact from the new SHIELD headquarters. Tony had to go through rigorous meetings and screenings, despite him being a trusted member of the organization.

“It really makes you wonder what the hell they’re doing out there in the middle of nowhere, huh?” He remarked to Bruce one day as they were re-evaluating their message for the fifth time. 

Once their message was finally sent through, Tony felt like he could relax. He let out a breath and ran a hand over his face tiredly after sending his final draft to be evaluated, hopefully for the last time. A resounding ‘ding’ confirmed that it had in fact been received and sent off to god knows where. 

This had better be worth it. 

As time wore on, the weeks that their guests had spent in the compound quickly turned into a month. With apologies, May returned to work to uphold her bills at home. Peter began to finish off his summer homework. Before any of them knew it, they were well into August, and Peter’s seventeenth birthday was just around the corner. The message would come a day or two after-- Tony couldn’t be sure.

May and Tony were planning everything-- they wanted it to be a surprise party. Happy picked up the cake, Tony bought what was probably far too many gifts, and May compiled a guest list. It was small-- Peter preferred small, intimate events, unlike Tony who had many lavish and indulgent parties on every occasion since he was a kid. They had since been dialed down tenfold, many of the big events just being for show and were often followed by a private event with just his family, but they remained all the same. 

The list consisted of his family, select members of the team who were available, Mr. Delmar, and his friends Ned and MJ. Mr. Delmar was on catering, bringing enough sandwiches to feed an army. Tony paid him far more generously than what was charged; the man almost refused the payment, but Tony insisted. 

Mary and Richard were at a loss in all of the planning. Tony realized that they probably hadn’t really celebrated their son’s birthday since he was four years old. The last birthday memory they had of Peter consisted of a chubby face smeared with chocolate cake, opening Ben and May’s gift of a stuffed dog. May graciously accepted the help they offered, and together the three powered through wrapping gifts, decorating and double and triple checking the guest list for the party that had suddenly snuck up on them and was that night. 

Steve was in charge of getting Peter away from the common area on his actual birthday. He brought the younger boy along with Natasha out to breakfast first, and they spent the day counting pigeons on the sidewalk as they strolled through Central Park, Natasha and Peter making jokes that Steve couldn’t understand all the while. The soldier took an abundance of pictures to send to Tony and May later, many of them consisting of the boy meeting dogs and excitedly counting each and every bird he saw. For lunch, they ate hot dogs from a vendor, Steve eating five and Peter six, while Natasha had the grand total of one, and ice cream from a shop she recommended.

At four o’clock, they drove back to the compound after Steve received a message from Rhodey.

\------

“Surprise!” They all yelled as Peter stepped out of the elevator and into the common room. His wide smile as he looked around was indicator enough that they had done a good job. 

The room was filled with red streamers and balloons, many of them floating to the high ceiling and settling there. The lack of blue was inconspicuous enough for the few people in the room who didn’t know he was Spider-Man. The kitchen island was laden with food; from sandwiches to cookies to snack platters, and a box that was suspiciously cake-shaped sat on the kitchen counter behind it. A playlist consisting of Peter’s favorite music was playing softly in the background.

Tony and Pepper stood closest to the elevator, May and Happy behind them. Mr. Delmar stood near the counter, having obviously just gotten done setting out his contributions. Rhodey, Bruce, Mary and Richard all stood near the balcony doors. To his surprise, Scott, Hope, and Cassie were also there. Ned and MJ were the first ones to approach him. 

“I-- wow guys, this is amazing! I don’t--wow.” he stuttered, trying to find the right words through his goofy smile. By this time, they all began to talk excitedly, both at him and to each other, and Peter didn’t know what to do with all of the attention. MJ dragged him forward. “Hey, loser.” She said, smiling, and pulled him in for a hug. She handed him a rectangular box wrapped in gold paper. “It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought the next time we saw you, you would have another set of parents?” She gestured her head towards Peter’s parents, who were currently making their way across the room towards the teenagers. 

Ned walked forward as well, an awestruck look on his face. “Why didn’t you tell us your parents were SHIELD agents? That’s so awesome!” Peter just looked sheepish. “Sorry. I wasn’t exactly allowed to tell anyone outside of the compound. They haven’t really been allowed to leave either. It’s all classified information and all that.” He waved a hand vaguely in the air. Suddenly, he was being attacked on all sides. May and Mary had him sandwiched in a hug.  
“Woah-- hey!” He laughed, pushing them apart. 

“Happy birthday baby,” Mary said as she looked at her son with adoration, a hand placed lovingly on the side of his face, “I never thought I would get to see you get this old.”

“Thanks, mom,” he said, and she pulled him into a hug. May watched with a smile plastered on her face. MJ watched as it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

After being cornered by Richard, Tony, Pepper, and Happy to receive hugs and gifts, he greeted the rest of his guests. Cassie was incredibly happy to see him and gifted him with a bracelet she had made herself. He put it on immediately and didn’t take it off the whole night. He received several other gifts as well-- namely from Tony, who had bought him more science pun t-shirts than he knew what to do with, but every single one of them made him laugh, which in turn led to a string of horrible jokes with Bruce and Richard. Tony and May had also gotten him some cool retro-tech, including a compilation of old tapes from throughout his life put on a drive, which he thanked them profusely for. He received several Lego sets from everyone collectively and a plethora of movie posters and the movies themselves from Ned and MJ. Rhodey even managed to get a few of them signed for him. 

Later, he was gifted new nanotech web shooters from Tony, a world war two swiss army knife from Steve and throwing knives from Natasha. (“Would you stop giving him deadly weapons!” Tony would say later.)

The highlight of his night, however, was the gift that his parents gave him.

He reached into the small bag, pulling out a small red blanket. It had obvious signs of wear but was fluffy and soft all the same.

“It’s from when you were a baby,” said Richard quietly when he saw the confusion on the boy’s face. “We kept it with us because we knew we might never see you again, but we thought that it was time we returned it to you.”

Peter looked at the blanket, then back at the pair smiling widely. Suddenly, he lunged to hug them both tightly. “Thank you,” he said, his eyes misty. 

“We love you so much baby.” Whispered Richard into his son’s neck. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be there for you.” 

Peter straightened, sniffling. “Are you kidding me? I’m just glad you came back.” He gave them a weary smile. 

\------

After the festivities died down far into the night, several rounds of Mario Kart and a movie, the small crowd of people dissipated. Steve, Rhodey, and Happy retired early while Mr. Delmar left sometime after nine. Cassie tried her best to stay awake with the ‘big kids’ but fell asleep curled into her father’s side halfway through 'Empire Strikes Back.'

Just as Peter and his friends were preparing a huge fort of blankets and pillows on the large couch, Richard walked in and leaned over to Peter. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

The boy smiled, “Sure. Be right back, guys.” He climbed over the back of the couch and followed his father into the hallway. “Somewhere more private, I mean. Maybe a lab?” The man’s eyes darted around, as if he were wary of something. Peter waited for an alarm to go off in the back of his head, but it never came. 

“Uh, I’m not really supposed to bring---”

“It’ll just be for a minute. Promise.” His father flashed him a sincere smile. Peter hesitated, contemplating his options.

“. . .Okay. Follow me.” He said a little reluctantly. He decided on bringing him to his personal lab, away from the living quarters. Upon entering, Peter walked ahead of his father and mumbled something to FRIDAY about not pulling out the displays (namely, his suits that typically lined the walls.) She complied without hesitation, having known about his plight to keep his identity a secret for the time being. He didn’t know why he felt the need to, they were his parents, after all. But a part of him didn’t want to worry them, just like how he had kept it from May for so long. 

“So what’s up?” Peter turned on his heel as they entered the lab.

“Is this your lab?” Richard said, just a little bit in awe of the place. “It’s amazing. Being a superhero must be tough, huh?”

Peter paused, his mouth dry. “W-what?” 

“Don’t worry. Your mother and I figured it out pretty fast. We’re trained spies, remember? Why else would you be hanging out with Tony Stark?” He gave him a playful wink.

Right. Tony was his teammate, nothing else.

Peter hesitated in forgetting what he really meant to him. He was his father. But at the same time, he wasn’t. No, his real father was here, standing in front of him and rendering him speechless with his confession.

“Wha-- awe man, do you know how hard it is keeping up the whole identity thing? Please just tell me if you know.” He laughed, internally sighing with relief at Richard’s nonchalant approach. 

His father only smiled softly, twisting his hands. “See, son, I wanted to ask you a question.” 

Peter looked expectantly at him, his brown eyes wide and curious. “What’s up?”

“Well. . .I know this is sudden, but your mother and I have been discussing it for a while now. We were wondering. . .if you wanted to come back with us? To Europe? As our son, legally-- again. We can be a family again.” The man looked hopeful after proclaiming his statement. 

Peter was taken aback. He had no idea how to react to a sentiment like that. Of course, he wanted to live with his parents and be with them, but what about his life here? What about Spider-Man, and May and Tony and the team? What about his friends, his school, the life he had built out of practically nothing?

But, all the same, the draw towards being with his parents again was overwhelming.

“I-- I dunno.” He found his reply lackluster, but he had no other words to say. “I mean, that. . .that sounds amazing, but I don’t know. That would mean leaving everything behind.” 

“I know it’s asking a lot. But we just want you to consider it. Consider this your birthday gift, no?” He flashed the boy a smile, one that Peter had learned to trust over the period of their short time together. 

“I. . .I will. Definitely. Thanks, dad.” He returned the smile.

“I love you, Peter.” Richard said, and pulled his son in for a hug. Peter returned it, burying his head in the man’s shoulder. 

“I love you too, dad.” They stayed like that, for a bit, before pulling apart, just as an incredibly angry Tony Stark burst into the room. 

\-------

“FRIDAY, where is Peter?”

“He’s currently in his personal lab with Mr. Parker.”

“What?! Why did you let him through?”

“Peter has automatic override, boss.”

Tony slapped himself mentally. Of course. He gave it to him.

He supposed it was about time that the Parkers were given some access, but Peter’s personal lab meant. . .

Well, Spider-Man. 

He opted to check on them, swiftly walking down to the lab, when he stopped in his tracks as he watched through the glass. There they were, standing in the middle of the room, hugging.

Suddenly, he felt a surge of possessiveness, deep and primal as he watched the embrace. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice was telling him he was invading, but his emotions won over his logic. He immediately stepped forward into the room, just in time for the two to separate from the hug. “What do you think you’re doing?” Tony said, fuming. He shot daggers through Peter with his gaze. To his surprise, he returned the glare. 

“Showing my dad my lab.” The boy practically spat. The words stung and Tony had to mentally recoil. If it showed on his face, Richard nor Peter didn’t notice or didn’t care to acknowledge it. 

“I gave you strict orders not to let people in the labs unless I give them clearance first.”

“But this is mine!” Peter replied instantly.

“It doesn’t matter!” Tony stepped forward, farther into the room, his hands flying as he gestured wildly. “I told you specifically not to let them anywhere near the Avengers or SI research and you disobeyed me!” 

Tony took a breath to continue his lecture but was quickly interrupted. “And just who do you think you are, talking to my son like that?” Richard stepped towards him, slightly in front of Peter.

“I’m Tony Stark, bud,” he sneered. “I own this compound and what I say goes. You got a problem with that?” He drew himself up, trying to appear intimidating to the taller man. 

“Actually, I do.” Richard replied, his voice going dark. 

“Dad, could you actually leave for a minute? I want to talk to Tony alone.” Peter asked, wanting to keep the argument between just the two of them before things got out of hand. The teen’s voice wavered ever so slightly, barely noticeable. But it was there. It was the note in his voice when he was getting worked up or when he was scared. Tony had heard it many times, whether it had been clear as day as Peter laid in his arms nursing a gunshot wound, fearing that death might pay a visit, or when it was ever so slight when he talked about bullies at school. 

Richard didn’t pick up on it at all. 

Regardless, he relented to his son’s request, hesitating slightly as he took a step back from Tony, never taking his eyes off of him. Tony’s jaw was locked and his eyes wild, ready for a fight. “Sure, Petey. Just let me know if you need me. I’ll be in the hallway.” He stalked away quickly, leaving the two alone.

Peter dropped his gaze to the floor. “It isn’t that big of a deal.”

Tony sighed, running a hand down his face. “I don’t think you quite get it.” His voice was stern. “These labs contain government secrets. I cannot have random citizens walking around.” 

“You let Ned and MJ in the labs!” Peter suddenly exploded, coming back with far more confidence than Tony had ever seen him have. “You don’t even care when they’re over!”

“That’s different. They’re just kid---”

“Oh my god,” Peter said, “You don’t trust them.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but found that the words were stuck to the roof of his mouth. “That’s--”

“They’re my parents, Tony!” He was practically screaming now. “Why can’t you just let me be happy?”

“Peter, you know I don’t--”

“I thought they were dead! You should know what it’s like!” 

“Peter!” Tony screamed back, his brows furrowed deeply, and the boy shrunk back, still fuming. 

The older man sighed deeply, trying to calm himself down, and spoke. “I already told you as soon as they came here that they weren’t allowed in the labs until I said it was okay. The fact that you completely disregarded what I said makes me question whether I can trust you or not.” 

Peter glared at the floor, opening and closing his fists as he contemplated his words. 

“Maybe you don’t have to.” He stomped over to the door.

“Wha-” 

“You’re not my dad, Tony, so stop acting like it!” The boy left in a huff, leaving the older man alone in the middle of the lab, hurt at his words and angry at the world. 

What was wrong with him? Trying to keep Peter away from his parents-- it was selfish. He was ashamed. He sat down in one of the chairs and tried to drown out the world around him, contemplating the stinging impact Peter’s words had on him. He was right. Tony wasn’t his dad, so why should he pretend he was? 

Peter already had a dad, and he was outside that door with his son.

He had to make things right. He had to apologize.

\-------

Peter left the room, angerly, but as soon as the door closed behind him he stopped. What was he thinking, saying that Tony wasn’t his dad? He wasn’t, technically, but he was about as good of a dad as Ben was. Ben wasn’t his father, either, but he loved him like his own son regardless. So did Tony. Why didn’t he just listen to what Tony was asking of him? It was a reasonable enough request.

What had he done?

He blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, regret taking over as he bounded up the stairs. Towards his real dad.

He kept telling himself that, anyway.

“Dad?” He called, relieved when he saw the man turn around to smile at him.

“I think I might take you up on that offer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Sorry if the pacing is weird-- this chapter is longer than the others. We're getting into the true story now. ;))
> 
>  
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

About a day after Peter had accepted his parent’s offer, he twisted his hands nervously as he tried to read the expression on May’s face.

“That’s. . .what?” May studdered, flabbergasted. She looked between Mary and Richard, then at Peter. “What do you mean?”

“I. . .I um. . .I want to live with them.” Peter repeated as if she hadn’t heard him the first time. 

Her mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. Finally, she spoke. “That’s. . .wow. That’s great hunny. Really.” She smiled, but it was forced and didn’t quite reach her eyes. Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t feel bad-- May had raised him the majority of his life and was essentially his mom. 

But she wasn’t. They weren’t even blood-related. His real mom was standing right beside him, looking apologetic. “It’ll be okay, May,” she reassured, “He’ll facetime you frequently, and there’s plenty of very nice schools in our area. Who knows-- maybe he’ll go to Cambridge.”

May just nodded, smiling. She embraced Peter and said quietly “I’m so glad you have your family back, baby.” 

But she was his family, and her heart shattered.

\-------

Tony had been nursing a headache for the last two hours. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night after the party and kept playing his and Peter’s conversation over and over in his head.

“You’re not my dad!” He had screamed at him, and it felt like a stab in the heart. He was now attempting to come to terms with it-- what was, in fact, the truth. He wasn’t Peter’s dad. No matter how much he felt like it. 

Dum-E nudged him, a cup of coffee in his claw. Tony took it gratefully and sipped it with a suspicious glance in the robot’s direction. “Didn’t put motor oil in this, did you?” He eyed the cup, smacking his lips as he attempted to detect any traces of the substance. Dum-E just whirred back and forth, as if to shake his head, and nudged him again. He pointed to a photo of Peter that was propped up on his work desk, beeping.

Tony sighed. “No, Peter isn’t coming to the workshop today. Sorry.” The robot lowered its claw in apparent disappointment. A moment later, the door sprung open, and a distressed May Parker walked into the room swiftly, her long hair trailing behind her. 

“May?” He questioned, really not looking forward to any sort of confrontation.

“Tony.” She said breathlessly, tears beginning to fill her eyes. He stood up and closed the distance between them, concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re. . .I. . .they’re taking Peter away.” A few stray tears fell down her cheeks, her voice wavering heavily. Tony’s eyes widened, aghast. 

“What?”

May was full on sniffling now, finding it difficult to control the constant stream of tears. “They-- they asked Peter if he wanted to go live with them, and he said yes. In the UK, Tony. I just-- I don’t--”

Before Tony knew what he was doing, he embraced her tightly, tears stinging his eyes. But he couldn’t let them fall, not in front of May, anyway. Because at that moment, he realized that she too had been holding up a facade, and now he needed to do so for her sake. 

May had raised Peter for a good portion of his life. He was her son, and he was being stolen away from her. He was being stolen away from both of them. 

\-------

“What?!” Clint and Steve both yelled at the same time, shocked at the news that Tony had come to deliver.

Steve was the first to speak, Clint still processing the information. “How can they do that? What about you and May? Spider-Man? What about--” Tony held up a hand. 

“I don’t know, Steve.” He sighed, “But we’re all going to have to support him in this decision. They’re his parents-- we can’t just deny them the right to take their son back. They’re perfectly capable of taking care of him.” Tony didn’t know what he was saying. After a lengthy discussion with May, they decided that they wanted to handle this like the adults they were and allow Peter to make his own choices. That still didn’t mean he trusted them or supported Peter leaving in the least-- (“God, no.”), but he had long since decided that he was in no position to fight him on it.

Not after the things that had been said. Clearly, Tony wasn’t in charge of Peter. Tony couldn’t help but feel a little bit-- okay, a lot-- of resentment. 

“God knows we don’t want him to leave. But. . .he’s not ours. Not really.”

Clint gaped like a goldfish. “But-- Tony-- you and May are his parents, not them. They can’t just--”

“Yes, they can, Clint, they’re his parents and they can take whatever the hell they want! Clearly!” He snapped, suddenly aggravated. 

If you had told Tony four years ago that he would have a son, he would laugh right in your face. But as he stood there, huffing as he tried to control his shaking hands, it couldn’t have felt more real. 

He knew it was real because his heart was breaking. 

“Tony,” Clint started, “I just-- he’s your kid. I know how much he means to you. I can’t imagine. . .I’m sorry.” 

Tony let his gaze drop to the floor. “Well, there’s nothing we can do it about it. They’re taking off tomorrow.”

He heard Steve’s intake of breath. “That soon?” 

“The lawyers are coming in the morning and they’ll be gone by late afternoon.” He practically whispered it, staring at the ground with his arms crossed. Steve put a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Tony, I’m so sorry. I wish we could help in some way.”

He felt the onslaught of tears and fought them, furrowing his brow. He said nothing as Clint and Steve sat in silence as if mourning. 

\------

That night, he found Peter on the roof in his suit with his mask in his hand, watching the sunset. The pinks and yellows reflected off of the glass, the red of Peter’s suit seeming to glow in the last light of day. Tony joined him there, carefully positioning himself as to not fall off the side.

It was only then that he noticed that Peter was crying, wiping at his eyes to try and rid the offending tears. 

They sat there in silence for several minutes, the only sound being the chirping of crickets and Peter’s sniffling. 

“I didn’t mean what I said.” 

Tony looked up, watching Peter’s face. He didn’t return his gaze, instead choosing to stare out at the fading light.

“About you not being my dad, I mean.” He said it quietly. “I just. . .I don’t know what came over me. You and May took such good care of me, I don’t know what I was saying.” Tony almost shuddered at his use of past tense, May’s pleas still fresh in his mind. 

A fresh wave of tears filled his eyes. “And I’m scared of leaving you guys behind.” His voice was small. That was all the prompting Tony needed as he scooted closer, wrapping a comforting arm around the boy. Peter leaned into him, facing away from the sky as he buried his face into his chest. 

“I-I just. . .they’re my parents. I need to go with them. I have to.”

Tony just sat there, contemplating his next words carefully. 

“You don’t have to do anything. Whatever you decide, we’ll support you. We love you, Peter. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He straightened, wiping away his tears. “And I’m sorry.” Tony’s heart sunk as he realized that Peter’s decision was set in stone. For one shining moment as they sat atop the roof, Tony thought that maybe he would take it all back. That he would stay there, with him and May and his family, not leave them for a dream that had long since been lost when his parents had supposedly “died” in that plane crash. 

“You had better facetime us every day,” he quipped, nudging Peter’s shoulder with his own, “And I expect to see Spider-Man on the news, you hear?” The boy laughed despite himself. 

“Yeah, okay.”

\------

The lawyers came in the morning.

Peter had spent the day feverishly packing, his friends Ned and MJ helping him to organize everything. After they had heard the news, they decided to stay over and spend as much time as they could with him before his sudden departure. 

Now, sitting on the couch and signing papers, Tony felt sick as he signed away Peter’s life alongside May’s signature. Her eyes were red and puffy, though she did her best to hide it behind makeup and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Peter must have picked up on it because he spent a lot of that day talking and being near her. 

Mostly everyone in their living quarters also wore somewhat solemn expressions throughout the day, carrying boxes from Peter’s room and loading them into the private jet that Tony had provided. At first Richard and Mary had refused, saying it was a luxury that they didn’t deserve, but he insisted. 

What he didn’t tell them is he needed to ensure that Peter got where he was supposed to be going. 

Much to May and Tony’s relief, they discussed shared custody that lessened the impact of Peter’s move. They were given four visitation months out of the year, total-- to be dispersed on their own terms. For Tony, it still wasn’t enough, but it had to suffice. 

Mary and Richard also had a hand in packing and signing documents, though they were far more upbeat than anyone else in the compound. 

While they were packing lab equipment away in secure boxes, courtesy of Bruce, Tony noticed that they were missing one red-haired spy.

“Hey, Bruce, any idea where Nat is?” He questioned.

“No idea,” he replied, his head stuck in a box as he organized and wrapped beakers, “Once Steve told us about the move she took off without bothering to tell me.” He seemed somewhat irritated, so Tony didn’t press the subject any further. 

Once everything was loaded and packed, papers signed and deeds locked away did the worst part of the day come. 

It was time to say goodbye.

As they stood in the dock, Peter hugged May tightly, both of them trying hard not to cry. She kept whispering ‘I love yous’ into his hair before finally letting go. 

He and Tony’s embrace was very similar. He stood there for several minutes, willing him to change his mind. But after what he wished could have been an eternity, he let go to express his tearful goodbyes to Ned and MJ.

Ned was full-on crying, and even MJ had tear streaks that painted her cheeks, despite usually upholding an emotionless facade.

Peter hugged everyone else present-- Steve, Rhodey, Happy, Pepper, Bruce, Scott, Hope, and Cassie. The little girl clung to him, tears spilling out of her eyes until it was finally time to let go. 

He stepped back where his parents were waiting for him near the stairs of the waiting plane as if to observe the family he had built for the last time. Richard led him up the stairs, where he turned to look back out on them one last time. Richard stared at Tony, a small smile crossing his features.

Tony stared right back, his expression hard and cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda short but we're getting there. I just thought that this was a good place to end this particular one, so it doesn't match up to my outline exactly. (It's why I keep my number of chapters undetermined until it's done.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a minute and a half-- it's really hard to keep it moving and I've been distracted by other ideas in my hEAD. Is this too short?? Please lmk. :)

As they stood and watched the plane disappear into the distance, May’s facade finally broke down. She took to sobbing heavily in Tony’s shoulder, and he could do nothing but cling to her and let silent tears slide down his face. He glanced at Pepper, who looked on the edge of collapse, tears staining her makeup as Rhodey supported her.

MJ and Ned were also extremely distraught, both eagerly checking their phones to see if their friend had texted them back. Both of them were crying, and Tony could imagine that Ned couldn’t even see the screen through the tears. 

They all seemed to stand there for hours, May shaking with sobs as if she hadn’t allowed herself to really cry since the Parkers had first arrived. It wasn’t until they parted and Pepper took her arm and led her inside, Tony following closely behind, that they finally let the skyline out of their sights.

\-------

As Peter sat and watched the clouds go by, he let out a shaky breath. He always hated planes. They were too loud, creaking and popping with the pressure and the engines roaring under his feet and all around him--

He swallowed bile as the plane climbed higher and higher until they had reached peak altitude. His spidey sense nagged at the back of his head as if his brain could sense his anxiety and adhered to it. Mary was sitting across from him, her red hair elegant and soft, as always. She stared out the window, mesmerized by the skyline. She closed her eyes and let out a breath, seemingly content. Peter studied her relaxed position, which seemed so different from his own. His shoulders were taught and he felt like it was hard to breathe.

He wanted May. He wanted Tony. He wanted to go home. Why did he do this again? His eyes filled with tears, but he couldn’t quite place why he felt like crying. This is what he wanted, right?

He felt a hand touch his shoulder and he flinched, but relaxed when he saw it was just his father. Oh. . .that’s why. The man sat next to him, rubbing his back. “Hey, you okay?” His eyes were flooded with concern. 

“Y-yeah, I’m just. . .well. . .” Peter downcast his gaze, saying the words just above a whisper, “I thought . . .you guys died in a plane crash, so I’m just a little anxious.” He was surprised when the lie felt easy on his tongue. He didn’t want them to know why he was feeling the way he was-- how much he already missed May, and Tony and Ned and MJ. . .

They couldn’t know. Why couldn’t they know? He didn’t know. His head was pounding, as if with a pulse, but it was a dull thud that constantly screamed ‘danger.’ The plane seemed to only get louder, then, and he nearly clasped his hands over his ears to try and block it out. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and collapsed his head in his hands. He could feel Richard shift closer and tried to take comfort in it-- tried to pretend that the soothing hand on his back was calloused, worn from years of innovation and tinkering. 

He was brought back to reality, however, when the man spoke. “I know this must be hard. But think about it-- you get to start over, to have a whole new life with a real family. We’re going to be together again, Peter.” The boy just sat there, suddenly mesmerized by the carpet under his feet. He tried to take comfort in the words coming from the unfamiliar voice that he had only known when he was a baby. 

He thought about it. Really considered it. He tried to picture his new school-- old and worn from years upon years of students coming and going for hundreds of years. Maybe it would be like Harry Potter. That would be cool. With courtyards, and a new group of friends to call his own. He’d get into a sport, or something, because he wasn’t surrounded by people he’d known since before he couldn’t do those things. Before he was Spider-Man.

Spider-Man. Right. He had packed away his suit, just in case, but never really considered what would happen once he was living there full-time. Did Europe need Spider-Man? He didn’t know the crime rates in London. He figured that Spider-Man would return to New York, when he came home to visit, but what then? Would people think that Spider-Man just abandoned them, nine months out of the year? 

Queens, New York was his territory. But he wouldn’t be there anymore. Would they think he died, if he decided to keep Spider-Man confined to his home city? What would happen to the NYPD? Ned? MJ? Would they be okay without him, or would the school bullies revert their attention back on them instead of him? He wouldn’t be there to protect them. But, no, MJ is strong-- she’d protect Ned. 

May. Tony. Would they move on? Finally rid of a problem they never knew they had? He saw the forced smile May gave when he told her he was leaving. He wondered if it was for his sake, to pretend she cared, or if she was genuinely upset behind the mask. Tony. One of the last conversations he had with him before up and moving away forever was an argument. He had apologized, for fear of that being the last time they talked for a while. He didn’t want to leave their relationship broken and never be able to pick up the pieces. Did the man still resent him? 

No, he thought. The memory of a comforting arm around his shoulders as he cried forced him to face the truth-- Tony did care. May did care. They would miss him, and so would he. 

Peter’s mind was racing with thoughts, which, while it effectively drowned out the sounds of the plane around him, made the blaring alarms in his head push even more so. Why wouldn’t they stop? He felt his father leave his side, then, and he couldn’t decide whether it left him feeling empty or not. 

“Here, drink this.” Richard grabbed his attention by shoving a cup of water in his hands. Peter took a careful sip, his ears ringing and making him unsure of whether he was going to be able to keep it down.

His senses attacked him from all sides as soon as he was drawn out of his stupor. He felt everything-- the leather seat he was on, creaking, the carpet-- what once was soft, now scratchy and irritating under his socked feet. His ears popped and he felt nauseated. 

What was most alarming, however, was the taste of salt in his drink. 

When he first joined the Avengers, it was mainly just a lot of training. One of which was poison and drug training. Tony insisted he took it, because it was incredibly important that he recognized them if they were used on a victim. 

Or, in some cases, used on himself. 

That was one of those times. His brain began to slow, and he felt incredibly drowsy all of a sudden. He recalled the name of one of those drugs. They called it ‘GHB,’ short for Gamma-Hydroxybutyric Acid. He struggled to remember the symptoms as he blinked to stay awake. Hallucinations, euphoria, drowsiness, decreased anxiety.

So why was he panicking? 

He listed the overdose symptoms, then, as he stumbled to get up. Seizures, slowed heart rate, considerably slowed breathing, lower body temperature. . .

Nausea? Check. Unconsiousness? 

Well, he’d get back to that one. 

How much of that stuff was in his water? 

His first thought was to get to his phone. If he could get to his phone, then he would be safe. Tony would find him. He always did. 

He leaned on one of the armrests for support and looked at where his seat was. And, standing there, looking smug, was his parents. 

“Wha- what did you do?!” He demanded, his words slurring together. The world became blurry and tilted before he shook himself. He locked eyes with his phone by his seat.

It must have been incredibly obvious, however, in his drugged state, because Mary picked it up to examine it.   
“It’s a damn shame. I really started to like you.” She snapped it in half as if it were nothing. 

Peter fixed them with a glare as he tried to get away from them. Oh god, he couldn’t get out. He was trapped inside the plane, thousands of feet above the ground. He could fall to his death or be rendered unconscious with two people that he thought he could trust. 

He was so, so wrong. 

“Y-you. . .who are you?” Peter asked, blinking to stay awake. 

“I’m your mom,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. One that he had learned to trust. A voice he previously had only heard lull him as he fell asleep in his crib, years ago. 

Today, however, he fought to stay awake, to attach himself to the sound, if only to keep himself from falling under. He sought the comfort of hearing himself talk as if it to reassure himself that he was still awake. 

“You. . .drugged me.” He said them slowly, comprehending all of the thoughts that had bombarded him all at once. “You-- how could you?” He felt tears slide down his cheeks, but never wavered in his betrayed expression. For a moment, he thought he saw pity flash in Richard’s eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. 

“That was only part one, don’t worry.” The man stepped forward, quickly, Peter stumbling away, and the movement made him gag. 

“Get ‘way from me!” He fell on the ground, his arms shielding his face. Richard grabbed his wrists and tried to pry them away from him, but he held fast, kicking and thrashing. He must have gotten a good kick in, because he heard Richard exhale heavily and gasp for air. Then he had a second pair of hands on him, and he struggled harder. 

“No!” He was sobbing now, “Don’ touch me! Get ‘way!” He was barely coherent, feeling something cold and painful against his neck before everything went black. 

\---------

Tony paced, up and down through the living room.

“Tony,” said Rhodey from the couch, “Would you stop panicking? You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m not panicking,” he snapped back but shrunk when he realized what he had done. “Sorry, sorry. . .it’s just, he said he’d text us once he was in the air and he hasn’t contacted anyone yet.” 

“I don’t blame you,” Rhodey replied, “But you know how he is. Probably passed out right as he got on the plane. Doesn’t like to stay awake for those trips.” Tony recalled Peter’s apparent fear of planes-- how they were so far above the ground and were so noisy. The first time they had gotten on a plane together he spent the whole time curled up, fast asleep with his headphones set securely over his ears.

“But what if they don’t know that, Rhodes? I should have told them that-- he could be having a panic attack--”

“You’re having a panic attack,” Rhodey pointed out. He got up and clapped a hand on Tony’s shoulder to stop him from moving. “Relax, Tony. He’ll be fine. I’m sure he just forgot.”

Tony gave him an exasperated look, “But-- he doesn’t just forget--”

“Look, Tones, I know you don’t want to hear this, but he isn’t exactly your responsibility anymore. He’s with his parents.”

The man was silent, then, staring hard at a place in the room Rhodey couldn’t quite see. They stood there for some time before FRIDAY spoke.

“Boss?” They both jumped at the sudden intrusion. 

“What is it, Fri?” Tony looked curiously at one of her cameras.

“Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Nick Fury are requesting entry into the suite. I believe it’s urgent.”

The two men looked at eachother, bewildered. 

“Let them in.” Tony said it almost instantly.

They heard the elevator door slide open a few seconds after that, then a surprisingly paniced voice of the Black Widow. 

“Tony!” She called. The two rushed over to where they could see her. 

“Oh my god,” Rhodey breathed, “Nick, what happened?” 

Nick Fury was standing there, one arm slung over Natasha’s shoulders as he leaned against her. Breathing heavily, he attempted to step forward only to almost collapse. They rushed forward to catch his fall.

“We need to get you to the medbay!” Called Tony, hooking Nick’s other arm around his own shoulders.

“No, Stark,” he panted, “The Parkers. . .they’re. . .”

Tony looked between him and Natasha, “What?”

“They’re dead.” And then he blacked out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hAhaha so hell week's just the best. :) Don't expect a lot from me-- I'm in the midst of a show that goes on stage in a couple of days and I literally chose to do this over HW sooo I'm gonna stop apologizing for late uploads thanks bye

Peter woke up with a start.

He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness around him. His head was pounding and he ached all over. It felt as if he was beaten, his side stinging with what was no doubt a large bruise. His ribs protested as he moved to sit up, staying hunched as he tried to get his bearings, only to fall back down.

He felt around. All he could feel was the cold, hard surface underneath his hands and socked feet, and it smelled metallic. He felt the rivets and bolts that were no doubt holding the floor together. It wasn’t what he felt, though-- more, what he could hear.

The sounds were deafening. The engines of a plane roared around him, and he put his hands over his ears to try and stop the pounding in his skull. He willed himself not to throw up at the dizzying realization that, there, in the cold, he could not tell the difference between up and down. 

He got onto his hands and knees, crawling around. He could feel the movement around him-- the plane was obviously in flight, the wind pressurizing so that his ears popped. His heart stopped when he reached what he could only assume was the wall, and it curved upwards.

He was in the belly of the plane. 

Some planes-- particularly, those that carry prisoners-- were empty, making room for storage and, well, people. Tony’s planes, namely the private jets, didn’t have this. Which could only mean that he was on an entirely different plane, and likely on a different course.

He felt panic surge through him as he couldn’t escape. The black spotted around him, making him feel claustrophobic despite what was probably an abundance of room around him. 

He bit his tongue as tears sprung in his eyes. He wanted May. He wanted Tony. They always knew what to do. May would cradle him in her arms, whispering reassuring words into his hair, and Tony would fix it, no matter what challenges arose. He always fixed it. He always saved Peter. The thought of the two only made the pressure in his chest worst as he fought against the bile rising in his throat.

Instead, he swallowed, taking a deep breath as he cradled his head in his hands in an attempt to slow his heart rate and erratic breathing. No, he couldn’t break down. He couldn’t panic. He had to focus on making it out.

But how on earth was he supposed to do that?

\-------

Tony stared at the tiled floor, his leg bouncing as he was lost in thought and anxieties. They had been waiting about two hours for word on how Fury was doing, and no one had even come to give them an update on his progress. He kept repeating what the man said in his mind.

The Parkers were dead.

What did it mean? Did the plane crash? No, he checked the plane’s progress on his tablet about five times within the past hour, and it was still on course with three life forms boarded still. He called Peter, but got the dial tone immediately. The kid always relied too much on Karen in his suit and almost always forgot to charge his phone. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

He considered calling Richard but had been debating back in forth in his mind, his internal battle growing more and more desperate. On the one hand, he had no desire to hear the man’s voice again, and on the other, he very much wanted to hear his kid’s voice. 

His train of thought came to a halt, however, when Pepper placed a gentle hand on his shoulder that made him jump. 

“Tony. . .you’re stressing too much. I’m sure Fury will have the answers you need once he wakes up.” Tony just nodded, sinking back into the sea of anxiety he had created himself, and another wave came crashing down on him. 

He needed to hear Peter’s voice. 

He got up, suddenly, May looking up curiously where she, too, was having her own mindful woes. “Tony?”

“I’m going to call Richard,” he pulled out his phone and dialed the number. Surprisingly, he picked up in only two rings. 

“Tony! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Richard said in a nonchalant tone as if he hadn’t just stolen his son away only hours before. 

“I think Peter’s phone is dead. Can I speak to him please?”

There was a pause, and he could vaguely hear a whisper, though he didn’t quite catch what they were saying. 

“Peter’s actually asleep right now. He took some meds when he boarded, was totally knocked out about an hour ago.”

Tony tapped his foot nervously, “Alright. Don’t wake him, then, just please have him call me back when he wakes up?”  
“Of course. Bye!.”

“Thanks. Bye.” Tony immediately hung up, not wishing to carry on the conversation any longer. Then something new hit him. With a bout of frustration, he threw his phone against the wall as hard as he could and plopped down in the chair, head in his hands. May and Pepper, astonished at his behavior, said nothing despite themselves, because it was clear that they both felt the same way, internally. His phone sat on the floor several feet away from him, shattered to pieces. 

He’d fix it later. He’d make the new version better than the last. He always fixed things. 

But this is one thing that he was afraid he couldn’t.

\------

It was a couple more hours before they had gotten the all-clear from the doctors to visit Nick, though they told them to make it quick. As Bruce exited the medical wing and made his way towards Tony, his furrowed brow worried the mechanic. “I think Fury has something important to tell us. Natasha said that when she inquired about Richard and Mary he started to in a whirlwind of panic, but then they were ambushed. She said she’s never seen him so uncoordinated before.” 

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as they walked through the twisting hallways, “That can’t be good.” May was just behind him, keeping in time. Pepper had left to inform everyone else in the compound of Nick’s condition. 

As they entered the room, the man in question was the first to speak, “Well look who came and decided to pay me a visit. Long time no see, Stark.” Fury winced as he tried and failed to sit up in his bed. “Got beat pretty bad. Bullet wound here and there, but hey, I’m still kickin.”

“What did you mean?” Tony questioned, not having time for pleasantries, “Before you . . .you know, passed out on my kitchen floor.” 

“Well hello to you too,” he sighed, “I suppose it’s justified. Sorry about the scare, earlier. But you’re here now, so you ought to here this.” He gestured for the May and Tony to sit. They pulled over their respective chairs and sat next to the man’s bed. 

“You were right to check in with me, Tony,” he said, “Because those two aren’t as what they seem.”

“Can you just cut to the chase, Fury? I don’t really have all day.” Tony said impatiently, and May shot him a look, though she too was pressing on in her softer expression. 

“I’m getting there,” Nick empathized, “Anyway. Richard and Mary worked for SHIELD once upon a time, about twelve years ago or so. They were sent on a mission to take down the new head of HYDRA, the Red Skull. Or part three, really. The title has been passed down since the original.” He coughed into his arm, and adjusted to be more comfortable. “HYDRA agents were sent after them, including a suicide bomber who killed himself in order to take down the plane.”

“That sounds like what they told us,” May commented quietly. 

“That’s because that much is true,” Fury replied, “It’s what happened after is where things get fuzzy. After the crash, they obviously didn’t die. No-- instead they were taken as prisoners by agents waiting on the ground. They were taken to the nearest base, and from what we have seen, were completely brainwashed.”

May gasped. “What?”

Nick nodded. “We know this because not soon after did they return out of nowhere, completely unscathed, and tried to steal important information regarding SHIELD’s top secret military projects. At the time, one of them was the knowledge of the Avengers Initiative. While in pursuit, one of our flyers cornered them in a warehouse and brought the whole thing down. We thought they had died. Turns out we were wrong.”

Tony was surprised when he found a flare of anger rise in his chest, “You tried to kill them?”

Nick raised his hands in surrender, “No, not me personally. The mission was capture and question, but a rookie had other plans. He was reprimanded accordingly.”

They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, the two processing the information.

“I could imagine that’s what caused them to show up suddenly,” said Nick. “HYDRA’s most likely had their eye on Peter for quite some time, and when they found out he was the son of their brainwashed zombie assassins decided to send them in.”

“So they haven’t even been them the whole time,” said May, “I should have seen it,” she put her head in her hands, Tony placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“There’s. . .one more thing you need to know.” Nick said, uncertainty leaking into his voice as he eyed May. “We think. . .Richard may have been involved in the murder of Ben Parker.”

\------

Peter spent the better part of an hour banging on what he assumed was the ceiling, trying to find some sort of escape hatch or light. If he could just find where the door was--

His fingers brushed something, a divot in the perfectly smooth ceiling of the hull. He ran his hands down it-- yes, it was definately a deeper dip than that of the overlapping metal holding the plane together. He felt around. There was no handle or anything to grip onto, so he was going to have to go for the next best thing: bashing the door in. 

He took a deep breath, curling his fingers into a fist as he prepared to strike the metal with all the force he could muster. 

He punched, as hard as he could, and every bone in his hand shattered. At least, that’s what it sure as hell felt like. 

He screamed in pain and fell back onto the floor of the plane, cradling his wounded hand. The plane must’ve been built out of steel or vibranium, because aluminum would have folded easily under the force of his strength. 

He thought, for a moment, of what Tony would do. If he didn’t have a suit that could carve through metal-- what would he do?

He’d wait. 

He’d wait until the plane landed and fight his way out, he realized.

Peter knew what he had to do.

When the doors opened to god knows where he was going to be, he would have to fight his way out. It was the only way.

This sprouted some doubts, however. What if the plane never landed? What if it was self-sufficent, a way to torture him until he died? What if the plane was destined to land in the ocean and drown him or kill him from the pressure? No, he was sure if that was the plan he would have already been thrown into the ocean. No use in having a plane out and about that can be spotted by radars on military bases. 

There was probably a crew above him, just waiting for the doors to open, guns trained as they awaited what would probably-- most certainly be-- a struggle from their prisoner.

If they were going to take him, he was going kicking and screaming.

\------

He laid there, in silence, for a couple of hours, willing himself not to cry. He couldn’t break. He wouldn’t. Not yet. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was only the beginning, and he needed to keep up his courage if he had any dreams of escaping.  
He couldn’t help but be angry at himself. Angry at himself, at the world, at everything-- all because he left Tony and May and trusted his parents far too much. What was he thinking, leaving his entire life behind like that? It pained him, knowing that he might not ever get to see it again. Might never again smell the burnt cookies that May made, or spend time in the lab with Tony, or build Lego sets with Ned and make fun of horrible books with MJ. 

For hours, he laid there and contemplated all of the things that could have been. What if he got a little sibling? Would he ever get to meet them? He would never graduate high school or college. He’d never discover something amazing or change the world or save someone from being catcalled, would never again walk old ladies home with their groceries or--

No. He couldn’t think like that. He was going to get out of there, and that was final. He had made up his mind. Now was not the time for pity-- he had to take action. He had to survive. For May. Tony. Ned. MJ. 

And that’s when the engines stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lOTTT of stuff in this chapter. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell week is over and my show is done! I'm still trying to get my bearings and adjust to a life of doing nothing again-- after show season I always have too much time on my hands and usually fill it by looking for more auditions anyway. ://

It was brutal. That’s the only word that can really describe it.

As the engines powered down, he felt the wheels of the plane retract and skid on pavement. They kept up their momentum before coming to a halt. He heard voices outside but didn’t move from his spot. He was frozen in fear, and he squinted his eyes as the ramp of the plane opened to a warehouse with bleak lighting that filled his senses to the point of his headache worsening.

He shielded his eyes, practically stumbling towards the exit, towards the light of that warehouse. He heard guns click, the rapid beating of many nervous hearts. 

He had at least one advantage: they feared him.

Peter quickly scanned the space. Around him were at least thirty guards, guns trained. With a broken hand, there was no possible way he could take on them all. Even in perfect health, it was impossible even for someone with his strength. If he could reach higher ground, though. . .

He thought of his identity. Somehow they knew it. How did they know? It was no matter, now, if he used his powers-- they knew what to expect. 

The world seemed to slow down as the door reached the ground and the guards came rushing forward. Careful of his hand, he took down one guard after another as they approached him. He had just taken down two men in one kick when someone aggressively grabbed his injured hand, and he screamed and cursed loudly. They must have seen he wasn’t using it and took advantage. The distraction caused him to hesitate enough that three other soldiers tackled him to the ground. He tried to fight them off, flailing and kicking out. He would admit that it wasn’t his most dignified moment, but he had to get out of there. He had to get home.

He was able to fight the three using brute force alone, sticking himself to the inside of the plane and walking upside down to free the use of his hands. Several of the soldiers, however, had their guns trained on him before he had the chance to do anything, each of them threatening to shoot. “Woah! Hey, guys, why so hostile? I thought we were friends?” As soon as he finished the quip, his spidey sense ringed true in his ear before he felt something sink into his shoulder. He groped his shoulder blade until he found the offending object-- and, as his vision blurred, he looked down at the tranquilizer dart in his hand, equipped with enough sedative to take down an elephant on a rampage. 

The last thing he saw before things went black was hands reaching up to the ceiling for him.

\-------

He wakes up slowly this time, aching. 

A chill is sent down his spine and he curled in on himself, feeling around. All he could feel was cold, hard concrete. He looked up to find that the room was dark and desolate, but he could see the harsh outlines of a cot on the far side of the small room and a toilet in the corner. It was relatively cramped-- about the size of a maintenance closet. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was exactly what it was. 

Before he could get his bearings, the door swung open, and he gulped down bile as his senses reacted violently to the sudden intrusion. 

“Get up.” He heard a harsh, yet feminine voice command. He tried, but failed, to stand, his bones sapped of all energy from the drugs still coursing thickly through his veins.

“I said get up!” The figure moved forward, fast, kicking him in the gut. The wind was knocked out of him and he cradled his diaphragm as he struggled to scramble into a sitting position. The person slinked towards him and he could see the vague outline of curves. This person was definitely a woman. 

She grabbed a hold of his hair and yanked his head up to face her, and he could only stare. The fiery red hair and freckles that dotted her nose were all too familiar. He resisted against the wounded sound working its way up his throat as she gripped his head tighter, her gaze glaring and empty. 

“Now you listen here, kid,” she spat the last word as if it were poison in her mouth, “You’re gonna behave for your visitors. Got it?” He said nothing, only glaring back as his head tilted to stare at her empty features. She shook him violently, kneeing his chest as hard as she could. He buckled, gripping his chest and gasping for air. “Got it?!” She repeated, now screaming. He nodded his head weakly, still winded. 

He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he only had to pretend to comply. At least until he could figure out a way to get out of there. Step one:

Find out where the hell he was. 

\-------

Tony paces the floor, practically wearing a rut as May sat and watched him, her head propped up on her hand. They were sitting in the kitchen, Rhodey leaning up against the counter with his arms folded and Happy and Pepper staring into space at the counter. 

Rhodey didn’t chastise Tony for pacing, this time, and instead joined in his concern. He furrowed his brow. “What did Fury say, again?”

Tony stopped, facing his best friend. He looked him up and down, his weary face betraying his obvious panic. Eyes wide, he tried to form coherent words to once again explain what Nick had said. 

“They. . .the Parkers. . .Richard and Mary Parker, they’re not. . .themselves.” He said slowly, trying to process what was coming out of his own mouth. “They haven’t been, this whole time. They’re brainwashed assassins. Like Bucky. HYDRA. They knew, they figured Peter out-- and they came for him. They sent them after him.”

Pepper looked at Tony, concern etched on her face. She moved forward to rub soothing circles into May’s back, who had also been trying very hard to keep herself together. 

“And what was it he said about Ben?”

Tony swallowed, his face going pale as he watched tears slide down May’s face.

\---------

It wasn’t an hour later-- or, what he assumed was an hour later, he couldn’t really tell-- that his mother returned. She held a gun in her grip as three soldiers followed her in. Peter backed against the wall in an attempt to get away from them-- he was slow to react, and he could only assume he sustained a concussion at one point or another. He couldn’t remember. 

Two of the soldiers positioned themselves on either side of him, Mary and the other soldier’s guns trained on him. Another man knelt in front of him-- his father. He was in a lab coat, white and pristine. He could only think of how out of place it was among the grime of his cell. He couldn’t remember when the man entered.

“Hello, Mr. Parker,” he said slowly as if he were a child that needed something explained to them, very slowly, “It seems that you brought something with you that isn’t incredibly welcome.” 

Peter blinked with confusion. What did he have? He nearly took to patting himself down. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Richard said slowly, “That you brought something with you that isn’t allowed.”

Someone behind the soldiers stepped forward, a tray in hand. Peter saw what was on the tray in his peripheral vision-- a glint of metal. Richard picked it up, only to confirm his fears-- a scalpel. 

He traced his gloved hands along the outline. “You shouldn’t have done that, you know.”

Peter found the courage to ask. “Done what?”

“You know damn well what you did.” Richard wasn’t yelling. His voice wasn’t stern. It was startlingly. . .calm. Indifferent. It sent chills down Peter’s spine. ust have seen Peter’s furrowed brow, because he continued on. “One of the soldiers yanked Peter’s right arm, sending unwelcome shock down to his broken hand. He gritted his teeth in pain and attempted to resist. The man holding him struggled, but didn’t relinquish his hold. The haze of drugs made it difficult to see straight, and his movements felt sluggish and weak. He wondered, idly, just how much was in his bloodstream. 

Before the boy knew what was happening, Richard took his scapel and traced along his forearm with steady precision, drawing a cry from Peter as he watched blood leak from the now open wound. He struggled, and two other soldiers held him in place, succesfully overpowering him and cornering him into the wall of his cell. 

The man turned and set the knife down, then, only to be replaced by a pair of tweezers. Richard grabbed the boy’s arm, steadying it as blood dripped onto his fingers. For a second, he stopped, and fear glazed over his features. The tweezers were an inch away from prodding at the inside of the arm, and Peter noticed his father’s hand shake slightly. He took a chance and looked up at his face. Where there were once cruel, empty features, came soft and fearful eyes.

“Richard.” Mary said, and it was gone. His hand became steady again and he focused his eyes back on the task at hand. He fished around Peter’s arm, each prod making involuntary screams rip from his throat-- the more blood dripped, the more tears did as well. 

Finally-- after what seemed like an eternity-- Richard seemed to get what he was looking for. He held up his reward. It was small-- barely visible in between the tweezers. But it was there. He deposited it onto the medical tray. At first, through the concussion and the drugs, Peter was confused as to what it was. Then, as he bit his lip so hard it bled in an attempt to silence his cries while his skin was crudely stitched back together, it came to him. 

It was a tracker. 

\-------

The thought came to Tony when he was building a nanotech suit for Rescue. As he installed the tracker, he begun to think of all the ways he could improve the safety of the suits, and of the people inside them.

Peter had convinced him to watch the movie ‘The Hunger Games,’ and, while in his opinion was a bit too cliche for his taste, conveyed very interesting ideas about survival. Before being deposited into the arena, each contestant was given a tracker under his or her skin, to keep up their whereabouts. This idea intrigued Tony. It reminded him of the implants under his skin he had created all those years ago. Sleep deprived and depressed and as scared as anything, he created trackers that could call the suit to him and implanted many under his skin. He had first run tests with Bruce, to make sure that they were safe enough to interact with organic matter-- and implanted them himself. He’d since made improvements, figured out a way to sustain the power without them being connected to anything-- and decided to apply their use in other ways. 

One of these ways, of course, was to create a nanotech tracker.

The device was extremely small and needed to be placed via injection, to settle under the skin of the forearm. Made of vibranium, it was undetectable and could be synced with the trackers in the suits so they wouldn’t interfere with each other's signals if within close enough range. At first, he tested it on himself. Then Rhodey, with his permission. 

It was only after the Parkers arrived that he placed one on Peter, too.

With the ‘accidental’ prick of a power tool, he could track his whereabouts anywhere in the world. Or space, to a certain degree.

He didn’t know why he did it-- maybe he was being irrational at the time-- but he was grateful, now, as he remembered the tiny device that was planted in the boy’s forearm. Maybe his helicopter parenting would finally pay off. 

After tracking the plane, they pulled up the readings-- only to discover that the three heat signatures on the plane belonged to god knows who-- three agents who had been planted there. FRIDAY reported that there was a landing and a takeoff, all within an hour-- her cameras had been completely shot, both on the outside and the inside, so that was most of the data she had. Tony remembered: Peter had blueprints to the jets in his lab.

And, sure enough, upon rooting through the drawers, he found a diagram missing. They had somehow shut FRIDAY down long enough to steal the blueprints, stash them away in their bag and then pinpoint all of the cameras before anyone suspected a thing-- and then erase the event from her database, all without a second glance from some of the world’s top trained professional spies and assassins.

All in all, it came down to one thing: they were good. Too good.

He double and triple-checked all possible trackers for Peter: his phone, the plane and the nanotech. 

Analyzing the signal from the tracker in Peter’s arm, he found that the signal was scrambled when he was boarded on the alternate plane.

Then there was a blip.

It must have been when Peter got a particularly strong signal, or he was in the middle of a transition between the plane and wherever they had brought him-- but he had something to track. He very quickly narrowed down the location, only to find that the tracker’s history ended there as well. It has been shut down, in what he could only guess what a completely fried mainframe, because the code didn’t die out or send error reports-- it just stopped. 

Someone destroyed it.

\-------

The soldiers returned, not too much later, as Peter sat in the dark cradling his injured arm that was pulsing with pain. It stained his shirt with blood and he tried to ignore the burning sensation, praying that it wouldn’t lead to infection, but also sure that it would.

“Get up.” A voice called. Peter complied-- as best as he could, anyway, remembering Tony’s words.

“If you’re in a hostile situation and you’re powerless, you need to comply until you get the upper hand.” 

And that’s exactly what he planned on doing.

With his injured hand and forearm and his head spinning, he was finding it extremely difficult not to throw up or pass out. He resisted both as heavy vertigo slammed into him when he arose from the thin sheets on the moldy cot. 

A man grabbed him, and he yelped as he was led forward. He willed himself not to vomit, like a montra repeated in his head over and over again. He kept his mouth clamped shut as the lights of whatever building he was in came into full view. Rough hands on him, he was led into the hallway. His head didn’t like that. As soon as they entered what was seemingly a hallway, he groaned and fell to the ground, his previous plan to find out where he was abandoned as his senses went haywire.

He was pushed to his feet with no mercy, and they trudged on. It wasn’t long until they were at what was seemingly their destination-- he didn’t know, everything was blurry and tilting sideways-- and came to a halt after nearly falling down various stair wells. He was shoved to his knees, and he gagged before bringing up whatever he had eaten that day. He heard noises of digust behind him, but he didn’t care as he crawled away from the pool of sick, and he tried to get his bearings to figure out where he was. He couldn’t hear a thing, apart from the clicking of heels as the soldiers walked away from his new cell’s door, which was disturbing to him. Normally, he’d be able to hear everything, especially when he was injured-- his senses dialed up significantly. 

He was underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please lmk what you guys think!

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
